


Supernova

by TheGoldenAppleofAsgard



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Safer!Sephiroth, Sephiroth Wins!AU, Tentacles, Ultimatums, Wing Kink, because Seph is part Jenova, everything goes to hell in a handbasket, monster fucking, so those have gotta be a thing right?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoldenAppleofAsgard/pseuds/TheGoldenAppleofAsgard
Summary: Everything was turning. Everything but Sephiroth.He looked like a God. Like what he claimed to be. Masses of feathered wings pulsed around him, suspending him and passing through the glassy platform beneath Cloud’s own knees like it wasn’t there at all. His chest was broad and bare, faintly glowing like he was lit up inside by some strange cosmic force. His right arm was deformed, spread like a dark wing that had crystallised in the air, glittering and sharp, and Cloud had no doubts that it could rend him in two with a single strike if Sephiroth chose to use it, but he couldn’t find the will to be afraid.Sephiroth’s remaining fingers flexed around the back of his neck, reminding Cloud that they were there as his mind caught up and he realised exactly how close Sephiroth was, and who was touching him.Cloud tried to speak, lips parting to fend off the creature hovering over him like some forbidding omen, but the words curled in on themselves before they could escape his lips, the shadow of a whimper pouring out over his tongue as Sephiroth met his gaze directly.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 22
Kudos: 84





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> WHO'S HERE FOR MONSTER-FUCKER PORN, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT THIS IS GONNA BE, PEOPLE. Straight up.
> 
> Seriously. If you're not ready for it, please exit the room safely via your nearest swirling vortex. This is gonna get all kinds of crazy, and we want everyone rocking their kinks in comfort. That means crash helmets and all sorts. Safety first, right?
> 
> Speaking of safety, if you're not familiar with Safer!Sephiroth, please look him up. The name does not mean what you think it means. Guys got no legs, for one, hence those interesting tags. But, honestly, he's a beautiful monster with more feathers than a vintage fan, and Cloud's gonna love playing with him... eventually.
> 
> ANYWAY! Let's get this show on the road. Please leave me a comment if you like it, and I will shower you with love and adoration, as is my way. Validation is worth it's weight in gold right now, and I need it to live. But! If you have any ideas, throw them at me. Always looking for inspiration. Thank you, darlings, and let's get to it!
> 
> \--

The light that split the sky was blinding, slicing through the heavens with a blistering kind of ethereal glow on approach until the sheer strength of it burned at his eyes. 

Cloud staggered back over the slick non-existent ground in the swirling vortex as much as his weighted feet would allow, the Buster braced up in his hands to try and block the light, but it crept around the width of the blade until he couldn’t see anything at all. 

It felt like the Sun was exploding, wave after wave of solar fire washing over him in degrees of heat that scalded until Cloud felt like the very flesh would melt from his bones. He clenched his eyes shut to fight against it, his startled yelp soundless through the cataclysm that Sephiroth had summoned overhead, but it did nothing to stop the pain. 

The sky shattered in shades of cacophonous pink behind his closed eyelids, everything swallowed up in the brightness. Even the air thinned under the force of it. Or, did it thicken? Was it swelling with heat, too hot to produce the smoke he thought could choke the last of the stifled air from his heaving chest? Was it too heavy to draw into battle-worn lungs?

Cloud couldn’t tell, breath thin as he tried to press his lips shut to keep the fire from lancing at the exposed soft tissue of his tongue and throat. All he did know was that Tifa and Barret had fallen silent beside him, and he did not dare open his eyes to look for them. He hadn’t seen the others since Sephiroth had raised his lone hand to the sky to summon whatever it was that he had wrought. 

His ears felt like they were bleeding, but he hurt too much everywhere else to know if it was real. They were definitely ringing, a din of high-pitched wailing bouncing around in his head so shockingly loud he wanted to cry from it, if he wasn’t already. Too loud to hear any of his friends if they were calling for help, too blind to even try if he could, and the helplessness that swept over him felt so potent that for a single moment, despair embraced him fully.

The swirl of ironic cloud that he had seen winding around his boots, before the fire had come to seer him through, felt like shackles around his ankles. There was nothing else to keep him still, and yet, when he tried to move, he could not. If Cloud could open his eyes without the light scouring them out of his sockets, he would be able to check, to fight back, but there was nothing else keeping him on his feet, and he was too frightened to swing his weapon, just in case he hit someone he did not mean to. His strength was all but gone, swallowed up in the effort it took to keep his hands wrapped around his sword when Sephiroth summoned the flare of celestial power to smite all resistance against him.

The ringing noise swelled, a loud crash setting the ground he could not see to a rolling shudder, and a low malevolent laugh rolled inside of his head with it. 

It wasn’t Sephiroth. 

It lacked the depth, the resonant note of what Cloud had come to know as familiar inside of his own mind.

It was Her. The Calamity.

Her sharp amusement was enough to shred what little fortitude Cloud could scrape together, and when she cooed his name, her malice was the gentle scream that threatened his resolve, and tumbled him to his knees. Weakness was a riptide pulling him under, coaxed by hands she didn’t have anymore, but that didn’t stop her. She felt triumphant, the echoes of her hypnotic call like razors that brushed against the bleeding edges of his patchwork psyche, seeking the channels she could thread herself through. 

She was chiding him. Softly. Adoringly. 

Like he was a recalcitrant child. 

_Mother! Please, stop!_

Cloud clutched at the throbbing sides of his head as nausea roiled inside of him, the Buster clattering to his side like it had struck solid glass. His fingers tangled in his own hair, but he couldn’t feel it when he pulled, hunching down over his folded knees until he could curl up into as safe a ball as he could manage. She was sliding around in his skull, worming her way to the core of him, and he didn’t have the strength to stop her. His anguished cry may have been out loud for all he knew. He could not hear it outside of his own head.

Then, it all fell silent.

So silent, that it was deafening.

A strong hand stroked over the crown of his head, large enough to cradle his skull in its palm before it slid down the back of his neck. It was warm, the rasp of sharp claws over the clammy skin at his nape enough to send a tremor through his sloping shoulders.

Cloud blinked his eyes open in shock, moving to shift back away from whoever was touching him, but the grip tightened in warning, long fingers curling around the breadth of his neck, pinpricks testing the delicate skin at his throat. Everything he could see was surrounded with bright white feathers, the blinding light settled enough that it didn’t sting his enhanced vision as he cautiously removed one hand from his own hair to settle it on the glassy ground beneath himself, unsteady despite the additional balance.

Underneath the spread of his fingers, the vortex turned, swirling fluffy clouds lit in shades of sunset. Cloud felt sick just looking at them twisting beneath him. It was like he wasn’t touching the ground at all. His knees ached in a way he could only describe as a distant pain, the glint of his sword beside him tempting him to reach for it, but before he could convince his hand to move, his head was dragged up, eyes wide and unable to look away.

Everything was turning. Everything but Sephiroth.

He looked like a God. Like what he claimed to be. Masses of feathered wings pulsed around him, suspending him and passing through the glassy platform beneath Cloud’s own knees like it wasn’t there at all. His chest was broad and bare, faintly glowing like he was lit up inside by some strange cosmic force. His right arm was deformed, spread like a dark wing that had crystallised in the air, glittering and sharp, and Cloud had no doubts that it could rend him in two with a single strike if Sephiroth chose to use it, but he couldn’t find the will to be afraid.

Sephiroth’s remaining fingers flexed around the back of his neck, reminding Cloud that they were there as his mind caught up and he realised exactly how close Sephiroth was, and who was touching him. Cloud tried to speak, lips parting to fend off the creature hovering over him like some forbidding omen, but the words curled in on themselves before they could escape his lips, the shadow of a whimper pouring out over his tongue as Sephiroth met his gaze directly.

The eyes were the same. The familiar cutting cruelty through burning mako-green, suffused with a kind of possessive hunger that made Cloud tremble like he was feverish. They were even more arresting backlit by the airborne stream of his hair and the brilliant golden flare of the divine halo. Cloud felt naked underneath the weight of those eyes as they pinned him in place, and he could almost feel how pleased Sephiroth was as he froze under his hand, the side of that mocking mouth curving in a cold smile.

He did not speak, but Cloud could feel his order as plainly as if he had spoken it, as if something had hooked behind his stomach and stayed there, tied like an invisible string. The compulsion was velvet soft, coaxing, and as that string started to tighten, tugging on him until he was compelled to follow its lead, Cloud realised exactly where it wanted him to go. He scrambled to climb to his feet even though he had no energy left to do it, the shift of the palm against his neck its own wordless command, and as he gave himself over to it, trusting it to hold him, a sense of weightlessness washed through his body in an overwhelming wave. 

The ground was steady beneath his feet, he was certain of it, but it felt like it was tilting, the vertigo attempting to destabilise him more than his treacherous thoughts as they rioted between _reunion_ and _rebellion_ , Mother’s voice a melodic lullaby in favour of one over the other. Try as he might, Cloud could not ignore her blessing any more than he could look away from Sephiroth’s eyes to check his footing, his legs clumsy beneath him as he wavered in place, and when that warmth left his skin, he cursed himself for wanting to chase it as Sephiroth drew back. 

Before he could even think about his actions, he’d lurched forwards, gloved hands sinking into the lowermost plume of feathers within reach. They burned, even through the hide of his gloves, infused with ethereal fire and licking at his skin through the leather, but it wasn’t close enough, and Cloud pulled back only long enough to rip them away, leather and metal cracking into the glass floor like Odin’s lightning as he dropped his gauntlets, before the sensitive skin of his bare hands were buried in softness again, the heat a welcome scorch wherever it touched him. 

It was benevolent. Cleansing. Igniting the unease within him until it smouldered to ash and withered away. The vortex became a hazy smudge around them, and all Cloud could do was look up, fingers tangled in angelic white, hypnotised before the altar of his God.

Sephiroth’s eyes looked back down on him in indulgent silence, allowing the greedy grasp of his presumptuous fingers and reaching back for him in turn, sinking lower to better accept the worship Cloud was so eager to give. 

_‘Reunion!’_ Mother sang in his head, and Cloud was euphoric, the swooping feelings of dread and excitement meshing together in his body until he felt he might fall apart under the sheer pressure of her insistence. His heart was leaping in his chest enough that it felt like the world had turned upside down inside of him, and when that large hand curled around his waist, rising up over the ridges of his weak human spine to tug him closer, Cloud followed without complaint, green eyes wide with pure yearning.

He could not look away, Sephiroth’s beauty enough to steal the awkward dissonance in his mind. The part of him that screamed, and railed and clawed. Its noise was separate, unimportant. Instead, everything was choral, blissful and otherworldly, and the silence that had rung so loudly before enveloped him in heavenly croons. Mother’s voice was sweet, the slippery sip of poison made delicate enough by Sephiroth’s embrace that he drank it down like accepted communion.

His God was pleased with him. 

He could feel it bursting inside of him like stars upon stars in galaxies surrendering to their tumultuous end. Like the inevitable death that greets all things in the wake of such brilliance. 

He felt it with such certainty, that the tears that fell from his eyes fell with joy.

He was unworthy of such blessing, but Sephiroth was smiling at him, his face so close, and his eyes so bright that Cloud was swallowed up by the urge to lean forward and kiss him. He did not, holding himself back so rigidly that it hurt. The liberty was not his to take, though he would gladly surrender himself so wholly that Sephiroth could claim whatever proof of loyalty he wanted. It would not be his place to refuse. 

Who was he to deny a God? 

The hand at his back shifted, and Cloud leaned into it, unprepared for the points of heat that bit into his skin without warning, long raking lines of pain dragging hard over his shoulder and down his back in slow trails. Cloud cried out only once, willing iron into his shaking knees to keep from collapsing into the large chest that braced him, muffling himself with his own hand as violet claws dug deep with inexorable patience. Wool, and leather, and skin alike gave way beneath their strength, shredding fabric until his shirt slipped down his arms to hang in tatters from the crooks of his elbows, the edges stained crimson with his blood. His pauldron slipped from his shoulder, the sheer weight of it enough to make its owner flinch as it struck the ground.

Cloud pressed his forehead into one firm pectoral as he fought to quiet himself, his heavy breath littered with remnants of his feeble sounds of pain, soaking in the cold comfort of skin under the weight of his head, smooth and resistant as marble. Sephiroth’s body was unexpectedly cold where his hand was warm, and his feathers sheer flame, but Cloud nuzzled closer anyway, trying to ignore the sticky feeling of his own blood running rivulets down his back. 

_‘We will discard the threads of an old life…’_

The voice was unmistakably Sephiroth’s, but it pulsed from inside, weaving inside his head like Mother’s had not long before, and Cloud lurched back in surprise. The hand at his mouth barely stifled his yelp as he moved further onto Sephiroth’s claws, the cut of them slicing down the back of his hip, tearing through the leather of his belts as if they were spun from silk. When he looked down, his harness was just the same, the sharply cut edges painted red, and hanging around his hips where the torn waist of his fatigues was starting to sag dangerously.

Cloud only realised he’d bitten into his own hand when Sephiroth’s long fingers wrapped around his wrist to free it from his teeth. It took very little to persuade him to release it, bloodstained fingers brushing tenderly over the back of his palm where the indent was most evident, and the blond looked back up at him despite the roiling in the back of his mind that seethed with denial.

It was easy to ignore that dissenting voice. So easy, in the wake of the blinding hint of a smile.

Sephiroth seemed to sense that loyalty like it had been presented to him on a platter, rearing up to his full sizable glory, and brimming with the brightness of his triumph at whatever he found in Cloud’s awestruck expression.

_‘It is time.’_

Warm wings curved around his half naked body like a burning cocoon, lifting him and Cloud held still with only the strangest impulse to struggle as he was brought up to settle, ragged clothes and all, against the divine creature’s stomach. It felt strange, to be scooped up and coddled into a comfortable ball even as the touch of feathers scalded at his skin. Lancing pain raced up the length of his back like unholy fire where they touched, but Cloud discarded the returning unease curdling in his own stomach as he embraced it fully, settling down peacefully in their grasp.

Time for what? Did he need to do something? Did he need to be somewhere?

There was nowhere else he would rather be. Nothing else he would rather do, than to accept the exalted reward he was being bestowed with, the closeness that Sephiroth was allowing him, despite his unforgivable behaviour.

In the glow of his own halo, Sephiroth looked content above him, something in the gleam of his cruel eyes expressing his pleasure as he cradled him close in two of his immaculate wings, the rest beating hard to raise them high until the vortex of smudged purple sunset broke into the dark of night. The light around them dimmed, the flicker of a million stars in the cosmos above shying away from the sanctification of its newest God, and ensconced in his aura as he was, Cloud was almost distracted from the only other prominent light in the sky. 

A planet wreathed in Ifrit’s flame, brightly shining and trailing its tail like a cloak behind it. 

No, not a planet, but something sizable enough to be one. 

It was moving fast, and Cloud found his eyes drawn to it, away from the slow spread of Sephiroth’s horrific smile, teeth bared in savage glee. That smile unnerved him, but he couldn’t think why. His God was happy, but something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Urgently and unwaveringly wrong. 

The string at his stomach loosened, and Cloud tried to breathe around it, the air thin from the height that Sephiroth held them at, wings beating rhythmically to keep them airborne against the chill wind he was mostly shielded from. They were high, the ground beneath them glittering in snowy blankets, and the stone walls he expected to see around them were not there. His breath poured from his lungs in curls of mist from the cold, something he’d barely been aware of before. 

They were outside. Outside of the cave, as North as North went, where the bitterness of deep winter bit at his face and woke him up faster than his nightmares ever could.

Cloud shut his eyes until they ached, struggling against the green flare he could feel slinking around in his mind until it crept back into the corners where it belonged, and when he opened them, dazed blue blinked up against the double vision that left him shaken and confused. 

Something was wrong. What was it?

Sephiroth was silent, gazing upwards with the expectant look of someone awaiting a resolution long in the making, and when Cloud followed his line of sight, his eyes caught on it again.

Meteor was close, bearing down upon the planet with no regard for anything beyond its dutiful collision, and in the far distance, the beacon of Midgar waited to receive it. There were so many people in that city, at the zero point where he knew the calamity would strike. So many would die. The thought was more troublesome than he gave it credit for as his steady hands began to tremble.

Meteor was bad.

It was a dreaded harbinger come to deliver a message, and his God would make sure that all would hear it. 

No, not his God. 

Sephiroth.

Something inside of Cloud snapped, like a string plucked too hard, and his neck ached as he whipped his head to look below, rolling in the cradle of the wings and tugging feathers out of his way to see. His balance was precarious, but they held him fast, his hands flaring in pain as the heat of the feathers turned from a comforting warmth to a roaring fire against his skin, even if there were no burns to show for it.

It hurt significantly less than what he saw.

Beneath them, Tifa was wrapped in Barret’s arms, one of her legs twisted out at an unnatural angle, her cheeks streaked with the glitter of tears. Barret was on his knees in the snow, to hold her close and protect her from the elements, his face horror stricken, and while Cloud could see Tifa’s mouth moving, he could not hear her words. Vincent was on his back a few feet behind them, his red cloak spread across the snow, his sprawled unconscious form the most ungraceful Cloud had ever seen him. Yuffie was hunched over him with his head pillowed in her lap, stroking his hair back from his face, the terror in her eyes when she looked up making her young age all the more apparent. 

Red and Cid were missing, nowhere he could see as he craned his head to look for them, but the Buster Sword was still there, half buried in a snowdrift where he was otherwise certain he had dropped it in the vortex.

Behind it, Cait’s mechanical parts were scattered over the ground like debris, his glassy eyes wide and unblinking.

He tried to call out, to climb to his feet in the nest of feathers that held him, but Sephiroth’s hand was faster, snatching around his throat before he could even find purchase on his knees, and dragging him backwards, the still-healing skin of his back rubbing abrasively against the chiselled chest he was pressed against. 

The tattered remains of his shirt dropped from his wrists as he tried to claw at the grip around his neck, booted feet kicking uselessly. The seams of his fatigues seemed to give under his kicking, the ripped fabric tearing under his exertions to hang loose around his hips as he was dragged up higher, high enough for Sephiroth to purr directly into his ear, the words resonating in his mind like an afterthought.

“You continue to deny me.” 

Sephiroth did not sound displeased with that at all. If anything, he sounded almost happy about it, the airborne swirl of his silver hair moving as if underwater when he turned to gaze down at the blond he held pinned against him, fixing him with a look so sharp that the violence in his eyes was a warning all on its own.

“I wonder if you would continue to be so willful if you had nothing left to fight for...”

Cloud’s scrabbling hands paused where they were clawing at Sephiroth’s wrist as the meaning sank in, blue eyes wide, enough oxygen in his head to sense the threat where it lingered in the air between them.

He didn’t dare look down. He didn’t dare look at blood-splattered snow, and Yuffie’s terrified face, and Tifa’s bruised fists clinging to Barret’s arm until she was white-knuckled with fear. He didn’t dare expose himself to their helplessness. That would break him more than Sephiroth ever could. They had given it their best shot, but they had wasted their opportunity, and if he had the strength to rally them just one more time, he would do it, no matter how bleak the outcome looked. Cloud knew he would lead them if they had even the slightest chance of success. To save the people of Gaia, to be the hero Zack had wanted to be once upon a time. To keep the faith, even if it was hopeless.

For Aerith. For everyone.

The price of freedom would always be steep. It would always cost as much, if not more than they could give. Their lives were inconsequential when weighed against the lives of the Planet, and they would do anything they could to save it.

That made them dangerous.

It wasn’t a stretch to say that if he knew that, then Sephiroth knew it, too, and he was not prone to tender-hearted mercies.

There wasn’t anything they could do now beyond plead for clemency, even if Cloud knew he would not find any. Knew it like it was written into his bones.

He still had to try.

“Don’t hurt them.”

It wasn’t a beg, not nearly anything close to one, and Cloud licked at his dried lips nervously, as if he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly enough. His pride was aching already, but Sephiroth didn’t even blink at his appeal.

“Please.” He added, voice whisper-thin, “Take me, but don’t hurt them.”

Sephiroth’s head cocked ever so slowly to one side, like a beast considering its prey as he leaned in closer, and Cloud fought the urge to lash out, to shrink back and maintain the distance between them. Sephiroth had always been bigger than him. Most people were. That didn’t help now, when he was so very conscious of the size of the body at his back, the size of the face that loomed over him. The size of the hand that could hold the full length of his jaw between two fingers without flexing to do it. Sephiroth’s unearthly form was terrifyingly large, and Cloud felt all too surrounded by it.

“What makes you think-” Warm breath washed over his face, and Cloud closed his eyes as cool lips brushed over his brow in a parody of softness, “That you have any power here.”

“Please!” He tried again, forcing his eyes open to confront his own discomfort. It didn’t make it any easier to see that slow catlike curl of satisfaction steal across that wicked mouth as Sephiroth pushed his head up higher. Cloud wanted to hide, wanted to crawl back into the cave and scrape himself back together, but Sephiroth’s eyes were alight, intent on picking him apart and he couldn’t contend with it, “Please, just leave them alone!”

His voice broke with the strain of trying to keep it steady, and warm wings rose up to surround him again, blocking out the cold that was starting to turn his fingers blue. He couldn't find it in himself to be grateful, even as Sephiroth eased his weight into the clutches of his wings until the hand around his throat became a broad arm closing around his waist, bloodied claw-tips dragging lightly over the worrying amount of skin exposed at his hip. Cloud didn’t want any of it, wanted to squirm free of the touches as badly as he had craved them when under Sephiroth’s sway, and when cool lips dragged up the bruising skin of his throat, he leaned away from it as much as he dared. 

“Very well.” Sephiroth acquiesced, tone smug and self-assured, “I will not touch them. And, you will give yourself to me. Wholly. I would have your word on it.”

Cloud knew he didn’t have the time to bargain, to tear apart the meaning of Sephiroth’s words before the offer was retracted. Sephiroth was right after all. He had no reason to negotiate, not when he held all the power. And, it was a truly tiny thing that he was asking for, something he could take himself. Something he had already taken himself more than once. The will to fight. 

He wanted Cloud to surrender willingly. It would not be easily done, given instinct and who he was dealing with, but he could do it, so long as Sephiroth kept his word.

There was a twisting in his stomach that told him it was a bad idea, but there was no other option. He had to keep them safe, and if this was the only way he could do it, then it was a sacrifice he would gladly make.

Cloud turned his head to meet the eyes from his nightmares.

“You have my word, if I have yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> And, before anyone murders me, we'll be earning our explicit rating in the next chapter. I was going to make this one-shot, but it got late, I am tired and the porn is complicated and half-written, so sit tight sweethearts, and I hope to indulge you soon. Comments are love! Come scream at me. Nicely, please.


End file.
